Blade of Screams

A blade in hand. My mind racing faster then the blood that pulses in my weak veins. So weak. So fragile. These shameful things give me life? When the blade first kisses my wrist it bites hard. With such little force I could be dead. Now I sit in a puddle on my blood. It shines. It trickles down my wrist as if it is a long forgotten rain drop. Blood is just my poison that keeps me alive. Tonight that poison is now set free. And me? I drift freely and sweetly in the dark screams of hell. -Kallie Mason